paths we take
by Adria Ember
Summary: he can't recall her laughter byakuya, yoruichi
1. take a breath

**paths we take  
Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach.  
**Warnings:** pairings, some sexual content  
**Summary**: he can't recall her laughter

--

_Your face, full of marvel but masked by incertitude and doubt, is still embossed into my memories from the first day we saw each other; chiseled and marked forever. Do you remember mine? Curious and amused? Awed and mystified? Tell me, for I do not know._

--

He wonders what she'd say to him now.

Maybe he doesn't want to know, honestly. But he's curious. To this point, he thinks that perhaps she will not care and resonate to apathy, to turn her back and never look at him again. He wouldn't blame her, if he were to say the truth.

Yoruichi never seems to look back anyway, so Byakuya shouldn't care.

(But he does.)

--

_You never laugh, little one. Wish you would. I bet you'd sound sincere and real. Soft._

--

The woman below him moans with pleasure. He wants to shut her up, keep her quiet until they're done. He hasn't even checked to see who she really is and what she looks like. All he knows is that it isn't the one he wants, so he keeps his eyes shut and ignores the slow movements and annoying sounds she makes.

As he always does, he pretends it's _her_ writhing beneath him. He imagines she'd making jerking movements to match his own and moan in just the right way. But his imagination can take him so far and he can't see her anymore before he's finished. Instead, he's back in reality, where he is once again struck with the fact that there is a woman lying underneath him; a woman he does not care about and will only meet once in his life.

He comes after her. She sighs in satisfaction and attempts to say something along the lines of _Oh, that was good_ or _Thanks for that_. But he's up getting his clothes back on and out of the filthy room before she can say anything. He doesn't want to hear any other voice but _hers_. The one he's wanted for so long.

It's only been twenty years since her betrayal but he can't forget her. She's that ghost that haunts his thoughts throughout the day.

He thinks he's pathetic, so he keeps his thoughts and his little nightly visits down by the runkongai secret. He's a disgrace. At least, that's what he thinks he is.

--

_No more calling me stupid names. It's annoying. But, I suppose, if you didn't call me that, what would you call me? "Princess" That wouldn't happen in a hundred years._

--

"Grandson," his grandfather sighs out and starts for the table, where tea has been placed, "I am certain there will be other opportunities for you to become captain. But snatching this chance is far too foolish, I must warn you."

Byakuya's eyes narrow further and he refuses to sit down after his grandfather ushers him to. "The opportunity is fit for one in my position. The Second Division needs one with expertise. It's not foolish, it's thinking ahead."

"Byakuya," he sternly returns. Upon the raised eyebrows of acknowledgment to the loss of pationence his grandson sported, he sighs and closes his eyes. "To replace her in everything would only steal your identity, Byakuya..."

It's as if his darkest secrets have been revealed and the younger Kuchiki can only think of how anyone could have seen right through him so easily. It's not as if he's tried to replace the former captain. In fact, he's not sure what his real motives are. All he knows is that he'd rather show anyone he could surpass her in every way possible. The battling abilities, the speech, the nobility, even secrets. That's how he wanted it on display.

It strikes him in a painful way. No one has spoken to him of her betrayal since he was notified. And he's never bothered speaking about it. It's been deeply buried in his heart and never to come out. But apparently, there was a leak and it's out for everyone to see.

Glaring darkly, Byakuya turns the other way. When he hears his name being called, he only runs. Faster and faster until he's somewhere desolate and away from anything that deals with nobility and that name _Yoruichi_. It's then he realizes that his grandfather is right. He screams to the top of his lungs (he hasn't done this in awhile) and tears up the sandy land before him. It's annoying and sickening, but he's right. His identity will never be the same if he tries to replace that woman. There's nothing he'd like more than to change everything, tell her to her face that she's the wrong one, that she shouldn't have ever left.

But he can't. And won't. He's looked already for her. And he's tired of searching and annoyed with replacing.

He'll be better than that, he decides. He'll be better than _her_.

(Later he hears Soi Fon requested the position and laughs because he sees a little girl. But he has her to thank. Someone has to look more foolish than he's being. He was that little boy a day ago, he'll become a man.)

--

_Sometimes, when I look at you, there is something hidden behind your eyes. You hide so much away from the world. I don't think you understand that I want to know._

--

The woman tonight is louder than usual and he has to cover her mouth half the time because the voice pierced through his thoughts and imagination. She moans later and he's afraid someone will hear. He was in a hurry and the choice of location is near the local drinking area, where, unfortunately, many members of the Gotai 13 attend. Many will recognize him in an instant. It's infuriating that the woman has to be so loud, despite their actions.

Or maybe he thinks you should only be louder when you're truly happy with the person. But the woman doesn't even know who he is, which pisses him off to no end.

After they're done, he dresses quickly and is out of there in seconds, mindful of a shower as he heads home. Before he heads out the main entrance of the building, he spots something of a night color move hurriedly in the window. It triggers a memory and he's out the door in flurry and searching for any sign of it.

There.

Running down an alleyway is a black cat. He's after it without a second thought, because it never had felt silly before (_chasing and chasing_).

He thinks he hears a chuckle before the cat disappears from his sight in an instant.

--

_We were drinking tea and you turned to look at me. You had a strange look on your face, as if you had found the sight of me of no importance anymore. It took me a few days, but I realize you were waiting for me to react and smile. But I didn't. Sorry._

--

"Byakuya-sama..."

The small and gentle voice from his wife brings him from his reverie of the ealier conference with the captains regaurding more patrol in the world of the living. Blinking up to meet her gaze, he can only smile at the sight of her kind features and fragile stance by the doorway.

Everything about her is different from the other women he has ever encountered. Even if ill with grief and disease, she manages to smile everyday for anyone. Her gentle words often send others into deep thoughts and calm reactions. However, she complies with everything she believes he would wish; submissive and influenced by his presence, as if one of his subordinates. This is the only trait he can find that is bothersome; the rest seems like the perfect woman. And she doesn't even know it.

"Yes, Hisana?"

She steps forward once and reaches under her blanketed clothing to find a paper. "A messenger sent this to both you and I..."

"Oh," he nods and stands to retrieve it . She hurriedly takes it across the room before he can move any further behind his desk. Reading it, he frowns and sighs. Placing the note on the side, he begins to read over a report made earlier for a possible choice for vice-captain.

It is silent and he wishes she wouldn't stand while being so sick. He raises his head and opens his mouth to speak to her, but she inquires something first.

"Who is Urahara?"

"A man who betrayed the Soul Society and stole away with several others--including captains," he replies without a second thought.

Hisana makes a noise indicating she understands. With a sigh, he asks her to sit and she complies quietly.

"Was he close to you?"

"No, but the woman who aided his escape..." he stops. Was she close to him? Mentally, yes. However, she hadn't preoccupied his mind since Hisana entered his life. But as he stares at his wife's expectant face, he realizes that--"she was."

"She was close to you?"

"Yes...she trained me, often, in my younger years."

She hums with amusement. "You are still young, Byakuya-sama."

"Which is something she said too."

"Then perhaps you should keep her close to your heart?"

It would have seemed so wrong coming from anyone else, but this is Hisana and she means it dearly. She wishes for everyone not to regret the past, which is something he still has troubles with (and will have for years to come). When he stares at her face with uncertainty, having difficulty placing his thoughts into words, she smiles suddenly.

"Oh, Byakuya-sama," she covers her mouth with a small throaty chuckle, "do not get anxious over such a small matter."

He tries not too. For her sake.

--

_Your eyes are so cold sometimes. I know you've seen death more times than most kids your age and it's not fair. You don't seem to care. You don't really know the difference. It's okay, but you won't be so ignorant one day and you'll see right through me too. _

--

When Hisana dies, he thinks of how small life can be. Even if they live long lives here, it can be cut off in a blink of an eye. So he finds the sister of Hisana and keeps her under his wing, despite this so called thing named _pride_. Because all that it comes down is the life we all hold, he knows.

He wonders if she knew that.

It's the first time it dawns upon him that _she_ might have died already.

And, for a moment, as he stalks the halls to the records room, he pauses. The goal of finding that beloved sister of Hisana's is forgotten for only a second. But his heart stops, though unnoticed, and all he can think of is that all his life he's been waiting for something that's never coming back. He understands he's never believed her death before, for it's _simply what others said. _So within that small stretch of time, he weighs the possible loss.

Byakuya doesn't take the time to fully explore what two deaths would feel like.

--

_It's been awhile. I haven't written anything in here for so long. But I realize that no one will ever see this--it's hidden. But just in case: could you smile for once? Bya-bo, don't get frustrated with small things. _

--

The Shihōin clan find the remaining items from her wing in one of the many living corridors they own. Being the heiress, Yoruichi had many rooms to herself. No one asks why they hadn't investigated the rest of her rooms earlier in the years because it doesn't really matter anymore to most people. Some of the possessions were standard and regular items to have, however, they had discovered something else.

Inside the wall, behind the mirrors, she had stored records and notes. Again, most of them were customary and she explained nothing of her sudden disappearance. Nevertheless, as they examined further, they found small personal writings to the several people in her life. As if she were to write them a letter but had never been able to find time for it. (Besides, Yoruichi has never been one to write letters, she just tells it to your face.)

A meeting is held for the captains and it is brought up in the current subject of missing people of the Gotei 13. Byakuya stares on, straight ahead but it's not enough because he still feels Ukitake's sincere gaze. Yamamoto describes how she hadn't left anything of importance to anyone and he spots Soifon's eyes turn downcast for only a second until they cloud over with the coldness he has used for years.

Afterwards, Ukitake approaches him kindly and that everlasting sweet smile upon his lips as he speaks to him in the hallways.

"Yami-jii didn't want to make it such a trivial matter," he says softly, taking a piece of worn and yellowed parchment out of his belt, "but the notes we found within her journals--if you can call it that--consisted of her personal writings to her namaka. And..." Ukitake's eyes turn poignant and he spots a spec of pity in them, "...most of them were to you. Since she is...presumed dead, no one thinks it is invading her possessions anymore."

Byakuya doesn't hear past "you". All he hears is mocking laughter (_it's in his head, just in his head, because there's no way she's really there and laughing at him_) and feet hitting the ground as memories purge his mind. And the paper isn't just one paper; there are a few papers in Ukitake's hand. He doesn't know how those papers ended within the shaking shelter of his hands and how he is suddenly standing inside his office alone. But somehow he is and he's glad no one witnesses how his body seems weakened and limp. No one sees him fall into his chair heavily with a tired look upon his face.

_Presumed dead_.

He's never heard it from Ukitake and now it seems so definite. He doesn't want to think upon the lines of "she might be dead" or "there's no way she's coming back" but he does think: _She's no more_. It's been years and he still thinks of her as he did as a boy and for that he berates himself.

Upon reading the first line, the papers are stashed away in a flurry of whites and yellows and never to be looked at again.

--

_You will be a better man than most, Byakuya. Don't forget that. _

--

He wants to kill her.

The second she appeared in front of him, he finds she's not only changed in appearance, but the creases in her face, the way she holds herself, have all changed. The first thing going through his mind, however, isn't this. It's the fact she's _standing right there_. She's not dead, not harmed and she is completely able.

And when he challenges her to their little game of tag, he's angered beyond words that she _agrees_. Because all he wants is for her to leave and never come back. They hold a gaze for only a moment and she's off, heading right towards him. And that anger turns into the loathing he's been storing for all these years. So he strikes her. It was an illusion, but he had seen what it would have been like if he had killed her.

It's unsatisfying.

When she finally leaves, he turns to go. Ukitake asks him what should he do. Byakuya merely answers, "I'm no longer interested here."

Because he's not.

That damn woman haunts his mind, instead of his pending fight.

--

_You hit me with your sword today. I couldn't believe it so I laughed. You threw it at me when we were running, but you got me! Granted, I could see you were about to strangle me, but I saw that victory float in your eyes. I'm not proud but not disappointed either. I finally feel as if you're on my level. Never mind. Just...forget it. It's nothing. _

--

Rukia's features consist of something akin to longing and hope as she stares at the courtyard outside during the daylight hours. As they eat, her eyes drift back and forth from food to window. She hardly eats, which isn't a change at all. But Byakuya notes the face and connects it to the Kurosaki, who had gone back to the world of the living just two days ago. She is distant but smiles regularly and has warmly spoken to him lately, so he doesn't bother telling her to stop the vain hope the boy will come walking through the door somehow.

The two share something, Byakuya concludes. A bond of some sort. He knows the foolish boy is doing the same thing. And, suddenly, Byakuya has déjà vu and he sees the boy he used to be, staring out the same window, wishing for the same thing. For the ware-cat would often race through his door and pull him out to play. He had imagined, younger, that she would drift through his room and explain things, tell him he was right and everyone else was wrong. But those were vain hopes and shameful thoughts, he knows.

But she's _alive_. And everything is starting to be pieced together. Soifon is the one to see her often, but Byakuya couldn't care less. Somewhere, maybe, a part of him calls to her to come to the grounds they once raced. But it should be no more, he thinks. She was once _no more_ and now there is _no more_ of what was. What truly has been killed is reliving the moments between them; the unknown companionship they held together, until the other end was dropped in a heartbeat for another.

Something strange possesses him and his eyes are drawn to the window, and suddenly Rukia and he share the same gaze. There's a flash of black and he rips his stare away, swearing to himself he did not see a feline jump off the wall.

"Hurry and eat your food, Rukia," he says standing up and walking to the door.

"Yes, Nii-sama..."

She's still looking out the window, he knows.

--

_I've stopped calling you Bya-bo not so long ago in my mind. Thoughts of you hold the world "Byakuya" now. It's laughable, I know. Maybe you would laugh if I told you this; perhaps then I could hear. But...it is consistent, as if I shouldn't name you "little one" anymore. As if... _

--

He thinks of her often now.

It's not such a shameful things to him, presently. But he believes it's shameful when he thinks of her anything other than "senpai" (he almost wants to laugh at the word, for she was nothing like that to him before). In his battle with the arrancar, he mentions her. Just "her". It's the clostest he's ever gotten to speaking of her aloud.

Something stirs at the pit of his stomach. He ignores and deafeats the enemy.

Besides, Rukia is of more importance than a mere name he could not say.

--

_Sometimes, Byakuya, things __**happen**__. You should know what I mean when I say "we all change". Because we do--you did. You weren't so gloomy before your parents died. But...people do things for their own selfish reasons. Please don't judge me if anything happens suddenly. But if you do...then I understand._

--

/

--x--

End part one.


	2. and laugh

**paths we take  
Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach.  
**Warnings:** pairings, some sexual content, blood  
**Summary**: he can't recall her laughter

--

A dead body hits the ground, leaving droplets of blood across the ground and he raises his eyes to see her there.

"What makes you think you can simply strike down my opponents without my consent?"

Strangely, he hopes his cold and cutting eyes slice her resolve. But she walks closer until she's stepping over the dead arrancar and three feet away from him. With a solid and bemused appearance, she stills and gazes towards him.

"Oh-ho," she chuckles suddenly, "Such big words now, Bya-bo. Don't be so condescending."

He doesn't answer. The prideful part of him wants to believe she is no longer a part of his life, despite his obsession as a younger man (_boy, actually, he was a boy_). So he spins his heel and turns to the next opponent in his path.

Within seconds, the arrancar is struck and thrown to the ground brutally before he can take another step. He watches as she speedily thrashes the inferior adversary's head into the hardened sand and hastily guts it bloodily. Her clothes and hands are covered in the blood liquid. Her eyes are in a hard gaze on her task, as a predator in a hurried hunt. It's so fitting for her, he knows, because of all the things he's seen her do, this is where she belongs--free and unmerciful (_that's what the bitter part of his believes, what the angry pieces of him says_). After the last breath leaves the arrancar, she instantly directs her attention to him.

"Do not _ever_ turn your back on me as I speak to you, Byakuya."

"Big words," he returns, "But I recall you doing the same action a hundred years ago."

In less than a moment, he's in front of her body, his lips against her ear.

"If you expect me to listen to you, then you have thought wrongly."

So close to her skin, he feels her collected aura and shallow breathing, akin to his own. In just a few seconds, he questions their personalities' differences. Are they truely so in contrast to each other, so unequal? It somehow angers him that she's never been direct with him; that everything they do has to be hidden beneath symbols and unending riddles. Byakuya knows it has always irritated her if he did not heed a word she said in the past and he assumes that aspect of her has not changed. Now, as he is barely tuoching her skin, he ponders if she realizes that is something she's done for years: never listening to others. Of a world of blurs and laughs, she is the leader. And all others are simply along for the ride, which is why he knows he has to leave this alone (_but he can't, can't because this is unfinished and he hates that_).

It'd be so easy to grip her neck and feel the fragility of her body. To know she _isn't_ immortal and he can certainly _end_ her. And the last face she'll see is the face she had left behind and forgotten so long ago. And he honestly is about to bring his hand to her neck but her throaty and whispering voice cuts his contemplative action.

"I never turned my back on you."

Seconds pass and he has no response. Instead, he considers her statement. Never turned her back on him? The urge doesn't come often, but he has to fight the desire to give a snort of disgust. Clearly, she does not see it his way, or else she would understand how much he felt the need to aruge and yell at her until his voice was no more. It would make him feel better, self-assured that he mangaged to show how bitter he is.

Abruply, he feels her gently take strands of his hair in her hands and feel the texture gently. She graps a handful of hair and runs it through her fingers; the touch is so light, it's like wind is merely playing with it. As if seared with unimaginable heat, he rips away and stares incredulously at her.

"Do not touch me, Yoruichi."

"But you've dreamed of it."

And he takes her neck in his hand, holding her at arms length. His stoic expression hides his contempt and animosity towards her words. He finds he cannot hate _her_. Even if she had turned away from everything and left him. After all these years, there is still a blocked goal to loathe the woman. Byakuya doesn't know what it is because he can't ever hate her appearence, her voice, her touch. But everything she says is a slash of knife against his skin. Perhaps this is how it should be; they never speak to each other ever again. He could live with it. He's lived with other dark things. Why not this?

Her features do not change. They match his mask of apathy. Her cool skin trickles something akin to comfort through his veins. All he can do is stare at the woman, who had left long ago.

"You are not pressing hard enough."

He blinks slowly and doesn't answer. She continues.

"When you grab someone by the neck, you are supposed to draw blood, Byakuya," under his grip, she cocks her head to the side, a thoughtful look taking form. "I taught you that."

"Then perhaps I do not wish to tear your skin."

"Not now, at least," she whispers and lowers her eyelids, breaking their gaze. "Am I right?"

He lets go and pushes her further away. It's bothersome and he needs to get back to Rukia to ensure she is all right. This damn woman here is a distraction and always has been. As he begins to take larger strides, he hears her voice before he starts shunpo.

"I watched you often."

He stills but doesn't turn around.

"You pretended they were all me."

And that's when he leaves.

--

_I want to grow old. You said, yesturday, that you desired to die protecting others, but I didn't believe you. You want the same thing--to die of old age, to die without the setting of darkened skies and raining blood. I know because you hate this life. Byakuya, if we ever make it that far, would you say good-bye to me? Or would life eventaully pull us apart and into these politics and social statuses? Battles and endless techniques? Would you be too busy to say good-bye?_

--

"Kuchiki!"

"Kuchiki-_taicho_ would be better, Ukitake-taicho," Byakuya responds as he turns his full attention on the white-haired man. "What is it you wanted?"

The man offers a smile and hands him a glass of champagne gracefully, "Parties are to be shared in the company of friends. Am I incorrect to say we are friends?" Ukitake's expectant eyes remind Byakuya of years with his grandfather. If his father were still alive, Byakuya knows his personality would have been close to this man in front of him.

Byakuya spares a smirk. Raising the glass, he nods. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Ah, yes," Ukitake turns to look over his shoulder, as if watching for someone to walk towards the two men at any moment. "I was asked if you would give a small speech for--"

"No."

Ukitake quiets after the interruption. Then, he smiles and nods. "I thought you would say that. They didn't believe me."

"Then now you have confirmation."

The older man sighs and begins down the path to the open garden and Byakuya follows absent mindedly. "Your disdain for Yoruichi-san's acceptance to the position has left me with torn feelings."

"How so?"

"I've known the two of you since a small age."

Byakuya frowns slightly. "You are torn because of the different paths we have taken?"

"No," Ukitake ceases his walk and stares forward, thoughtful. "I am torn because it is tiresome to see two people avoid each other like the black plague. Yoruichi doesn't harbor anger like the rest of us--she holds hurt."

Byakuya sniffs. Ukiatake hums.

"It's true." Sighing, the man drinks from his glass and turns to leave, "The celebration is for _beginnings_, Byakuya. Do not waste tonight on meaningless thoughts."

But Byakuya does anyway.

--

_My heart hurts. As strange and thoughtless as that sounds, it is truth. My life has always centered on demands and motions. I've never stopped to feel my heartbeat, never listened to the thud of others'. It grieves and I know why._

--

Byakuya ignores Soifon's presence from across the room as he enters his office. The air seems thinner wherever she goes and he's not all that appreciative she's bestowed him this small visit. Renji, next to her, lets his eyes fall to the floor, as if guarded and defeated all at once.

"I have to speak with you."

"I believe you should have thought about that," Byakuya sits at his desk and stares directly at her with undertones of distaste, "before you threatened my lieutenant."

Both are taken aback at the statement. It's truth, he knows, because Renji gives a small sigh, almost enough not to see it and Soifon narrows her eyes more so. There's a tension in the room now and he doesn't bother glaring at her any longer. Instead, he serves this time to sort through the papers Renji was supposed to sift this morning.

"There was no other way to have a meeting with you."

"At least now I can say my lieutenant is faithful towards my orders," Byakuya responds nonchalantly. There's a moment he thinks Renji just chuckled, but he decidedly ignores it. "What do you want, Soifon?"

She tenses visibly and turns to Renji. With a small "Leave us," he is gone in a blur of black and red. Byakuya sighs; he'd would rather have someone witness the possible assault she is probably planning. He knew she'd come to accuse him of something one of these days; it was only a matter of time, considering she's been known to do so in the past to others. He thinks he doesn't really mind, after all. Perhaps this is an opportunity to--

"I want you to apologize to Yoruichi-sama."

The words fly from his mouth before he can fully understand her demand. "For what?"

Soifon appears appalled by the question.

"For _whatever it is_ you did to hurt her," she shifts with a sigh. "You offended her in some way and she hasn't recovered."

He thinks she's acting so childishly. "Yoruichi has always been able. Don't be so irritating over something so trivial."

"You're unbelievable."

She leaves with those words and, if he were anyone else with good humor, he would have laughed.

(But he doesn't.)

--

_Your grandfather proposed the idea of marriage to me yesterday. I can only assume you didn't know of his intentions, or else you would not have acted the same as you always have. After all, I would be marrying you. Instead of the feeling of dread and pending containment of the mere thought of marriage, my heart healed. Just a little._

--

Two days later, he thinks over Soifon's words. And then he wonders how the description "hasn't recovered" could ever apply to Yoruichi.

So it doesn't bother him, like he thinks it should.

--

_I see you changing every day. It takes all I have not so tell you: "You have it all, you're gonna go far." But you won't listen, so I won't say it._

--

"You're insane."

Kurosaki's voice cause Byakuya to think of walking the other direction.

"What is it you want?"

Ichigo snorts and leans against the wall, crossing his arms. "Nothing much. Just thought you were stupid as hell."

Byakuya doesn't bother correcting him.

"I mean," Ichigo goes on, "I know you have that dark past, but she was in your life before all that. She would understand, right?"

"Who told?"

Ichigo blinks and then grins. "Well...I'm not sure who told Soifon, but she told Urahara, who told Rukia."

Byakuya makes a note to teach his sibling the meaning of _gossip_.

"So am I right?"

"No," Byakuya grunts, "you're never right."

"Well...then who is right? You're not. We know that," Ichigo sniffs and pushes off the wall and begins down the hallway. "But if you ask me...it would be Yoruichi."

It's funny, he thinks, because he's always thought that too.

--

_You smiled. Actually smiled. And at me. For a moment, I saw a part of your grandfather in you. Well, yes, you thought it was funny you accidentally spilled tea all over me, but it was amusing in the end. The smile reminds me the feeling of victory after a battle--the soft rush of appreciation and self-achievement._

--

It's starts off loud and almost obnoxious and fades to a cheerful chirp. As a child, he memorized her laugh, unknowingly. It's followed him and, after her abrupt departure, it had haunted him. Now? It has simply faded to distant memory because, honestly, he doesn't remember how it goes. Like a mother's soft lullaby to her child now forgotten over years being an adult. Consciously, he doesn't care; it's what he calls 'trivial' and something he rarely thinks about. However, under the exterior and within fickle thoughts, it doesn't matter.

And, perhaps, when he spent nights with those frothy women, he had expected that same laugh--had wished to remember each sound and note, relearn what has been lost.

--

_I've learned hearts can be crushed so easily. But it takes a lot to truly hurt one._

--

Rukia mentions Yoruichi is staying at Urahara's shop again. It's hopeless, he realizes, but he feels as if he's finally being assertive enough to speak something through (he wonders if that just meant closure). So, with great hesitation, he gets permission to step through the gates and enter the world of the living.

She slaps his face the moment he steps onto the ground.

And then she's laughing.

At _him_.

While caught up in finding humor of his complete shock, she doesn't notice he's actually smiling himself. And, yeah, maybe it's because he never thought she'd stop glaring at him and this is the first she's laughed at him in...years.

"You deserved it, though."

Later, he's surprised he didn't think of telling her how she deserved to be left out in the dust because she hadn't thought twice to do it herself. Instead, he sighs and glances to the ground, just a little distraught.

"I haven't come here to say I'm sorry."

"No," she smirks, "you came to say we're _both_ sorry."

(It's not what people call closure, but it's what Byakuya calls it.)

--

_I'm leaving somewhere. It'll be a long trip. Soifon won't be too happy--she's been trying so hard to be great. And, when I look at you, I see you have too. And, someday--_

--

Byakuya remembers the notes and letters she had written for him long ago and mentions it to her.

"Those old things?" she puts on her sash and looks in the mirror, "Just thoughts I had written down."

He nods and she takes his arm. "Shall we go?"

--

_--I hope you realize I never meant to hurt your heart--nor break it. I've tried since the beginning to build you up into a man. I never realized I could learn from that. _

--

When they are halfway out the door, he comments, "By the way, you never did do it."

She is only half-listening as they head to the party, "Did what?"

"Hurt my heart."

Brushing some hair out of her eyes, he sees her smiling as she says, "Just broke it, huh?"

When he nods again, she holds on tighter to his arm.

--x--

_We'll meet again._

--x--

_fin_

--x--

End part two.

If anyone skipped and didn't get the italics sections, it was from Yoruichi's journals from years ago (which he read a few lines and nothing else, hence the ending).

It'd be nice if people wrote more of this pairing; it's unappriciated.


End file.
